


History has a way of repeating itself

by turnupfortrash



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Dark Stiles, M/M, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:12:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnupfortrash/pseuds/turnupfortrash
Summary: In movies, they always show stuff like this in slow motion, the sound cuts out and everything is silent as the main character takes in the scene. Real life isn’t like that. Everything around him seemed to be happening so fast.





	History has a way of repeating itself

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. First things first. This is a repost of my OWN work. If it looks familiar it is probably because you've read it before when I had it posted.  
> I deleted it for my own reasons and am now re posting it for personal reasons. 
> 
> Secondly, this fic is a bit on the darker side. It is not canon compliant (for many reasons) and please pay attention to the Character death tag. This is not a happy fic.  
> I'm on tumblr [The-BiWonder](http://www.the-biwonder.tumblr.com)

When Chris left, they knew it was a possibility that another hunting family would take the place of the Argents; however they never expected it to happen so soon. Just two weeks after Chris left, after the whole Kate mess, the Grimm family moved in. Stiles could appreciate the irony of a family named Grimm hunting werewolves, but the humor of the situation was eluding him. They noticed the hunters rather quickly; the ominous glares out in public kind of gave them away. As they started reaching Hale levels of stalking, Stiles could tell Scott was getting worried. When Scott finally caved in and called Chris, Stiles knew it had gotten bad. The hunters hadn’t done anything, but they were making their presence known. It seemed like only a matter of time.  

The news when Chris finally got back to them wasn’t good. Apparently, Gerard and the Grimm family patriarch went way back, having trained together when they were growing up. This put the entire pack on high alert, the possibility that this family shared Gerard’s views and  level of craziness was a terrifying one. When Scott texted Stiles about the pack meeting that night, it didn’t surprise him. They needed to get ahead of the hunters before things escalated. Maybe they could broker a treaty, similar to those with the Argent or Calavera families.

Stiles pondered this as he picked up their standard take out order for pack meetings. Although they started out taking turns, it now always seemed to be Stiles’s turn. Shaking his head, Stiles set the bags down on the front seat and began to make his way towards Scott’s house. 

The drive to the McCalls’ from the Thai place downtown is relatively short, but somehow Stiles still manages to run late. Looking at the clock, Stiles pressed down on the gas pedal a little more. When he heard the sirens, Stiles didn’t think anything of it. They weren’t police sirens, and his dad was waiting for him at Scott’s already anyway. The closer he got to Scott’s the louder the sirens were until, suddenly, they stop. His foot pressed down a bit harder. 

Squealing around the corner, Stiles felt his heart stop in his chest. Two fire trucks were parked outside of Scott’s house. 

In movies, they always show stuff like this in slow motion, the sound cuts out and everything is silent as the main character takes in the scene. Real life isn’t like that. Everything around him seemed to be happening so fast. He was out of his car and running towards the house before he even realized. Someone caught him, held him back. The noise around Stiles was deafening, the roar of the flames enveloping the house, the fire fighters trying to break down the door, the rush of the water as they tried to stop the flames. It was too much to take in all at once. It was also too late.

Being human, Stiles had never really noticed pack bonds, but he could certainly feel it as they all broke. One by one, Stiles could feel them passing on: Lydia _ — _ _ my strawberry blonde goddess _ , Liam _ — _ _ he was only 15 _ , Malia _ — _ _ we just brought her back,  _ Derek _ — _ _ reliving his worst memories in his last moments, _ and his father _ — _ _ I dragged him into this.  _ One by one, they all went, but it was Scott that knocked Stiles off his feet. Scott _ — _ his brother in every way but blood _ — _ left this world, and Stiles could feel it in his very core. The intense feeling built up inside of him, power surging through his body, crawling up his throat, and trying to escape. Stiles let it out, the scream that ripped through him sounded more animal than human. Collapsing fully to the ground, Stiles was barely aware of someone picking him up as he slipped into nothing.

* * *

 

For that brief moment as he awoke, Stiles was blissfully unaware of what had become of his life. Then it all came rushing back _ — _ t he fire, the pain, and the  _ power. _ Power? Stiles flexed his hands, staring at them as if he could see the energy he felt rushing through his body. Frowning, Stiles thought back to what had happened the night before. He had felt each of the pack fade, but it was Scott that had hit him the hardest. It was after Scott that he felt this surge of power.  _ Alpha power _ . Stiles objectively knew he was Scott’s second in command, but the thought that he would be next in line to become alpha, even as a human, confused him. How was he supposed to lead a pack when he was human? Not that he had a pack anymore. 

At that thought, his head perked up. He still felt it.  _ His pack _ . His pack of two, him and… Looking around again, Stiles realized where he was _ — _ Eichen House. They must have brought him here when he passed out from inheriting Scott’s power. Like a little beacon, that feeling of pack drew him to his door. His pack, his beta, was close.. Stiles knew the door was locked, but he tried it anyway.  He expected to be met with disappointment; what Stiles didn't expect was for the handle to break off... right, increased strength. Slipping into the hallway, Stiles followed the tugging sensation that guided him down the hall to another locked door. With some conscious effort, Stiles was able to open it easily. 

Walking into the room, Stiles wasn't sure what he expected. He knew Peter was being held here. Stiles also knew that was probably who he felt, holding out no hope that someone survived the fire. So when he entered the room _ — _ split in half by a glass wall _ — _ he wasn't sure why he was surprised by what he found. 

Peter's face was pressed against the glass, blood streaked liberally across it. It looked like a hurricane had blown through the small cell. The furniture was thrown about, a body lay crumpled in the corner, and Peter was a mess as well. His clothes were mostly torn, and even though the wounds had already healed, his torso was smeared with blood.

“It didn’t actually happen, right?” Peter asked, his eyes wild. “He showed me. I knew it couldn’t be true, but he kept talking about it. Had to shut him up.” The dead body in the corner made a bit more sense now.

Stiles walked up to the glass, hands outstretched. Their palms met against the glass, and Stiles felt a weight lift from his shoulders.  _ Pack _ . Their eyes met, and Stiles could see the confusion in Peter’s other-worldly blue eyes.

“You’re… you’re the alpha,” Peter said, confused. “Scott…?”

“Is gone. They’re all gone. There were hunters and… and a fire,” Stiles said, his voice void of emotion. 

At the mention of fire, Peter wolfed out, control lapsing for a moment. 

“Don’t worry, we’re getting out of here,” Stiles said, eyes narrowing, “and we’re getting revenge.”

* * *

 

It took their combined strength to get Peter out of his cage, the glass shattering across the floor. As Peter took his first step into the other half of the room, his legs unsteady, he grabbed Stiles and pulled him close. They had never been overly affectionate in their pack, but whenever something particularly bad happened, all of the wolves felt the need to scent each other. Stiles wasn’t used to it, but he wasn’t exactly surprised either. What did surprise him was his own urge to mark, to claim his beta. As Peter pressed his face into Stiles’s neck, he did the same. Stiles almost wished he were a wolf so that he could smell his mark on Peter.

The pair separated after a moment, their bodies moving apart but hands remaining joined. 

“Come on,” Stiles said, tugging Peter into the hallway with him. Peter followed along behind him with no comment, not giving up his grip on Stiles’s hand.

They made their way to the first floor of the building, hiding whenever a worker passed by. As they got to the main floor, Stiles was prepared to simply walk out the front entrance, the only way in or out. When two workers walked into the room, they immediately rushed over to try and stop them.

“Hey you guys can’t be here!” the man yelled.

“How did they even get out of their rooms?” The woman questioned.

With the pair advancing on them, Stiles turned to look at Peter.

“Kill them both.” 

Peter grinned, “With pleasure.”

* * *

 

Peter and Stiles made their way towards the school, leaving the bodies in the entryway, not caring if they were found. Once they reached it, Stiles watched as Peter opened the Hale vault. Derek had returned the money there before the fire, so that was their first stop. It was also where the pack had stored Peter’s possessions, so he was able to get a bag together.

Their second stop was Stiles’s childhood home. He couldn’t bear to stay there long, just long enough to pack a bag of clothing and his laptop. The pair didn’t speak, working together to gather their supplies as quickly as possible before getting on the road. 

They drove to the edge of Beacon Hills, pulling into a shady motel that rented by the hour and accepted cash. The room they got only had one bed. It didn’t matter to Stiles as he dragged Peter into the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

Laying on the bed, legs tangled together, Stiles let himself relax against Peter. Getting out of Eichen House had been progress, gotten them that much closer to their revenge. But for the moment, they needed this, the closeness and intimacy was necessary to calm both Peter’s wolf and Stiles’s new alpha instincts. 

“I felt it happen, I felt it when they died,” Peter said quietly, “felt like my heart was being ripped out, and even then I still didn’t quite believe it was real.”

Stiles wasn’t sure which time Peter was talking about.

* * *

 

When they woke up, they started to plan the best way to get their revenge. They were lucky in the sense that the Grimm family wasn’t hiding. The family carried on with their lives in Beacon Hills, unaware they were being targeted, unaware that there were any survivors. Stiles planned to use their ignorance to its full advantage. 

The plan was simple. Tonight, once it was dark, the pair would make their way to the Grimm family home to kill all of them and anyone who got in their way; however, that left them waiting in the hotel room for the rest of the day. 

Peter tugged him towards the bed, “Come on. Let’s just put a movie on or something.”

Stiles nodded numbly, the thought of doing something so normal after his life had changed so drastically was putting him on edge. Minutes into the movie, Stiles couldn’t tell you what they were watching; he could tell Peter was feeling the same. What they needed was to get out of their heads. Up to this point ,they had been doing things _ — _ breaking out of Eichen House, plotting their revenge, sleeping. It was all a distraction for both their minds and bodies. The only other option Stiles could currently think of seemed like a simple one. Moving his head from Peter’s chest, their bodies already entangled, Stiles pulled his head down towards him. He kissed Peter roughly, fingers sinking into the older wolf’s hair, holding him in place. 

Stiles clambered onto Peter, his legs straddling the werewolf. He may not be as strong as Peter, but with the alpha power coursing through him, Stiles felt like he might measure up. Tugging on Peter’s hair, pulling their lips tighter together, Stiles could feel it _ — _ the strength, the power, and Peter’s submission. 

Stiles moved to nuzzle at Peter’s neck, nipping lightly. Peter growled, the noise reverberating through Stiles’s chest, but he just bit down harder until Peter stopped. He lay beneath Stiles, pliant but not passive, taking what he was given and enjoying it but not pushing for more. Peter was trusting in Stiles to take care of him, and the alpha silently reveled in it.  

Stiles sat up, hips grinding down as he tore off his shirt and started pulling at Peter’s clothes. Together, they managed to get everything off with Stiles still pressing Peter firmly against the bed. Their bodies rubbed together as they kissed, touching each other in every way possible. Stiles felt Peter move towards the nightstand before pressing something into his hand _ — _ _ lotion _ _ — _ it would have to do. Liberally coating his fingers, Stiles reached down, looking briefly at Peter for confirmation. When the older man nodded, Stiles continued, quickly opening him up. It was rough, probably rougher than Peter deserved, but Stiles was not able to slow himself down. Maybe this is what they both needed, this rough joining of bodies an outlet for their anger and frustration. Stiles pushed into Peter, his pace fast and harsh, and the wolf took it all. Peter gripped Stiles close, the wolf in him needing the contact. Or maybe it wasn’t the wolf, considering Stiles felt the need for it to. Together, the pair of them were all that was left in their little world. 

* * *

 

When they awoke, it was nightfall. Stiles was plastered to Peter’s body, both having fallen asleep where they lay. Stiles tried to get up, but for a brief moment, it was like he wasn’t in control of his limbs. Instead of moving, they just seized randomly against Peter’s body, clenching and grabbing the wolf in a brutal grip. This awoke the wolf, growling at the perceived threat. He flipped Stiles under him, trying to shield him with his body. 

“What’s going on Stiles?” Peter asked, sniffing as he assessed the room. 

“Don’t... kn... ow... body... hurts…” Stiles stammered, trying to gain control of his body, hands gripping randomly at both the blankets and the werewolf above him. It lasted for a few minutes before the quiet room and the snuffling wolf on top of him helped to calm him down. If the black lines running up Peter’s arms were any indication, the wolf had been helping that process along. When he got up, Stiles’s body was aching, but he pushed through it. They had work to do.

* * *

 

Peter walked ahead of him, stance protective, as they approached the Grimm House. The house was dark, but Stiles knew they were aware of their presence.There was no way the hunters didn’t have some kind of security system set up. Yet still they walked right up to the house, not hiding behind any pretenses. When two bulky men appeared from the shadows, the duo didn’t hesitate. Peter’s claws came out, and Stiles marched forward, bat in hand. The hunters may be used to dealing with werewolves, but the one that approached Peter wasn’t prepared for the sheer rage the older wolf expressed, claws digging into the man with zero hesitation. The second hunter approached Stiles, grinning like he thought the simple human would pose no problem. With the new power running through his body, Stiles brandished his bat, knocking the hunter out in one fell swoop.  Quickly catching up to Peter, they walked into the house, hands joined together, a united force against the hunters within.

In movies, the bad guys always come out one at a time, popping out of rooms when the previous ones have been defeated until just the heros remained standing. Real life was different. Stiles and Peter walked into a room that was full of hunters, weapons in their hands.

“Oh, hello boys. Glad to see the gang's all here. Now, we can do this the easy way or we can  do this the hard way,” Stiles grinned maniacally, bat swinging at his side. “That’s what I’m supposed to say in situations like this, aren’t I? Give you an opportunity to beg for your lives or some shit? You can if you want. Beg, I mean. It won’t change anything, but I sure would love to hear it.” 

The hunters rushed at the pair, weapons firing, making enough noise that someone had to have noticed by this point. Stiles knew they had to get out of there quickly before the cops showed up. 

“Peter, darling, as much as I don’t mind you playing with your food, I think we may want to wrap this up quick,” Stiles said with his hands wrapped around a hunter’s throat, headbutting the hunter clinging to his back. The loud crunch told Stiles his head had found its target, and the slump of the body hitting the floor sent a rush through him. 

Peter looked up, his grin half crazed, blue eyes shining brightly, and Stiles could see fangs peeking out of his mouth. Stiles couldn’t help but watch Peter in motion, his claws slicing through the last of the hunters, blood spattered across his body. Like this, together, Stiles almost felt alive again. He should have known it wouldn’t last.

The adrenaline should have been wearing off but Stiles felt like his body was climbing higher and higher, his limbs seizing wildly, much worse than earlier. Peter caught him before he hit the floor, but Stiles was no longer in control of his body. What he could only assume was the alpha power, the magic inherent to werewolves, seemed to be bouncing around his body trying to find a way out.

“Don’t... think humans are meant... to be alphas,” Stiles stuttered out, managing a wry grin at the wolf above him. 

Peter’s eyes widened, his grip on the younger man tightened. “No, no, no, no... just give it up then. Just give up the powers, and you’ll be alright, right?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Is that what this has been about the whole time? Getting the alpha powers for yourself? It didn’t work last time, so why try again?”

“It’s not about being alpha! Being alpha wouldn’t mean anything without you here with me, so just give up the damn powers!” Peter yelled, a partial shift coming over him in his frustration. 

Looking up, Stiles could see how serious Peter was. Acting on instincts he didn’t know he had, Stiles managed to grab Peter by the back of the neck. It happened quickly, one minute they weren’t touching and the next Stiles had his teeth sunk into Peter’s neck. The howl that ripped through Peter as the alpha power surged through them was no doubt heard throughout the neighborhood. 

Hanging onto consciousness by a thread, Stiles watched as Beacon Hill’s entire remaining police force barged into the room. Peter looked to him. Even as the alpha, Peter still looked to Stiles for orders. 

Trailing his fingers across the bite mark that wasn’t healing, Stiles grinned. “Kill them all.”  
  



End file.
